Broken Mirror
by iNvIsAbLe.inkblood
Summary: "Whatever she was, or became, it all seemed too simple to her- she would always be someone else's broken mirror. " Theodora's dreams regarding her sister, the Wizard, and her own shattered heart. One-shot.


_**Written for another friend. Please review, and thank you for reading.**_

**Broken Mirrors**

Theodora stood up and stared at her pitiful reflection in the mirror. She shook her head in anger and spoke,

"Serves you right."

With a rage filled shriek, the Witch raised her hand and shattered the glass before her, sending shards of it flying in all directions across her room. Blood immediately surfaced on her palm as the broken angles of the item entered deep into her skin.

How could she have been so _stupid? _To believe that someone like the Wizard could actually love someone like _her? _She was just as gullible and naïve as Evanora had always said she was.

She looked down at her right hand- the one that had broken the mirror, in disgust. Under the growing layer of crimson, she could easily see shards of glass that had nearly molded with her flesh; the primitive wounds that would all become scars. The sight of her mutilated skin made the Witch's head spin and stomach churn.

Theodora had never been good with blood, not as a child, and not as an adult. At least, not her own. Watching her body leak out its own life-force made her feel sick, and now, as she sat here seeing that very event occur, her vision started to blur and her body went limp.

She slumped to the ground in heap, clutching her injured hand and trying to hold back more pain filled tears. She started shaking violently, unable to control her body or her emotions. She felt inhuman- like a demon trapped in a mortal shell, aching to be set free. Her body rattled and twisted on its own accord, and Theodora could do nothing to stop it.

After several more minutes of hysterical movements, the Witch went completely motionless, and fell into a troubled state of unconsciousness.

Even there, in the back of her mind, she was able to dream.

_At first, there was darkness, and darkness only. She couldn't speak or see anything, not even her own image. Nothing made any sound- everything was just empty. _

_Then, from not far away, music started playing. At least, Theodora perceived it as music. It was sweet and pleasant to the ear, and it called the Witch to come and investigate. _

_So she moved towards the sound, and it progressively grew louder and more define. As soon as she could make out the notes, Theodora knew what it was._

_It was that damn music box. Whether it was hers or her sister's, it didn't matter. The recognizable sound of it made the Witch grow hot with rage._

_Now an image was starting to appear. As the music box kept on with its tune, a landscape formed, containing many plants and shrubs that seemed covered in a layer of night. Then a backround began to show- one of towering mountains and gorgeous waterfalls that sparkled under the moon. Finally, she could see two people in the middle of all this. Their faces stayed illuminated by a glowing fire, and they were dancing._

_Theodora then immediately recognized the scene. That was the Wizard and her, dancing to his blasted music box on the night they met. _

_She wanted to charge forward and tear her own image away from his, so her other worldly self would never have to feel the heartbreak the man would bring. She tried to lift her feet off the ground, but she felt as if she had been glued to the floor. Her legs would not move._

_So now, she was forced to watch her idiotic self dance with the Wizard, knowing now that anything he said or did meant nothing. _

_Suddenly, a voice echoed from above._

"_We can chat more later." _

_Confused, Theodora looked into the sky to find the source of the voice. It sounded painfully familiar; almost exactly like her-_

"_Sister?"_

_When the Witch looked back down, the entire scene had changed. Instead of standing out in in the woods, she now found herself in what appeared to be Evanora's bedroom. The older witch herself was sitting on her bed, examining her features in the mirror, when a knock came on the door. She allowed the guest to enter, or, that's what Theodora assumed. Every time someone opened their mouth to say something in this world, nothing could be heard. _

_The door opened, and the Wizard walked inside. Evanora almost looked excited to see him at such a late hour._

_A conversation passed between the two as the older sister stood up and walked over to him, getting her body as close to his as possible without making direct contact. They smiled fondly at one another and continued speaking, until Oz stopped the conversation by reaching into his coat._

_Theodora watched in horror as the Wizard produced a small music box, _completely identical _to the one he had given her. She knew that damn thing would even play the same song. _

_He handed the box to Evanora, who seemed utterly shocked but pleasantly surprised by the gift. She lifted its lid, and the entire room instantly became filled with the little toy's song. It was the only noise in the room other than Theodora's almost silent screams. She kept her hands clamped over her head in hopes of blocking out the sound, but the music only grew louder and louder until Theodora couldn't help but hear it._

_She looked on for what felt like hours as Oz and Evanora danced to the music box, their bodies pressed tightly up against each other, and both of them wearing faces of bliss. _

_Then, slowly, Oz spun her sister around and twirled her into his embrace. Evanora lifted her head and received a tender kiss from the Wizard. The sight of this made Theodora's knees grow weak and her stomach begin to churn. _

_The kiss lasted several seconds longer than most people would be comfortable with, but Evanora and Oz simply looked pleased. He held her in his arms for a few moments longer before she pulled away and led him towards her bed. Theodora was disgusted._

_Certainly, her sister had always been a charmer with her looks and social ranking, and was not unaccustomed to having suitors, but _never _did Theodora even think to believe that her sister was a woman of loose morals. She barley even knew this man! Not that Theodora herself knew him much better, but the younger witch would not to admit that. Yet, even with her lack of knowledge, Evanora took to him and welcomed him onto her bed only hours after being properly introduced. _

_The sights that unfolded next forced Theodora to sink to the floor, in order to keep herself from retching. Even though every movement that was made caused the Witch to feel sick, she couldn't draw her eyes fully away. She practically forced herself to watch has her sister received passionate kisses from the Wizard on her lips and neck. His hands slithered down to her slender hips as she leaned backwards, allowing him greater access to her form. They both looked so…enchanted by one another, so pleased and still aching for something more._

_By now, the young witch was curled up on the ground, sobbing. Never before had she been able to risk such a luxury that so many others took for granted, but in this dream- in this _nightmare, _her multitude of tears did not burn her. _

_Through the crystal droplets clouding her vision, she looked on helplessly, as their bodies became intertwined and clothing began to be flung to the side. Her throat burned from screaming that could not be heard and her hands ached from being held too tightly over her ears in a continuous effort to block out the noise of that music box; it had been the only sound in the room for what seemed like many hours._

_Squeezing her eyes tightly together, she prayed it would stop- that _everything _would stop, and that she may find herself in her room again, away from her sister, from the Wizard, and from the music box. She knew she would much rather open her eyes to see herself bleeding on the floor than have to witness any more of…this. _

_She felt her position change, and when Theodora opened her eyes, she found herself seated at her vanity, staring in the mirror. The burn marks had returned to her cheeks, but her hands were fine, and the glass remained un-shattered. _

_The Witch breathed a heavy sigh of relief. It was over- the nightmare was done. Although, the damage it had caused could never be erased. _

_Theodora burned inside- burned with hatred, with anger, with disgust, and with sadness. She wanted to hurt him, to make him truly feel the pain she felt within. She wanted him, and her sister, to know what it felt like to be broken. _

_Then, she felt two hands settle on her shoulders. One was heavy and rough, the other felt slim and smooth. She knew both touches instantly. _

"_He has proven himself, Sister." Evanora said softly, a hint of malice hiding in the back of her voice. "He really is the Wizard…so Great and Powerful…"_

"_Theodora," the Wizard said next, "it really was a pleasure to meet your sister. Thank you for…introducing us."_

_The need to vomit returned as Theodora felt their hands slide across her back and meet on her neck. She buried her head in her hands and tried desperately to hold back more skin-killing tears as she sensed their fingers twisting together in a loving hold. _

_A cry escaped her lips as a tear fell from her eye onto her palm. When she lifted her head to see what the damage was, she was shocked._

_The tear had left no mark, although it burned like fire. But that was not what frightened the young Witch- it was her hands._

_Her finger, usually delicate-looking a pale, had transformed into knobby green sticks with nails like the talons on a bird. In fact, her entire arm was an inhuman color, and all of her angles had become sharp and unappealing to the eye._

_Frantically, she looked up to her sister and the Wizard, searching for an answer to her transformation, but the two were lost in each other's eyes, and were paying little attention to Theodora._

_As she snapped he head back and forth, the Witch caught sight of her face in the mirror. No- wait, it couldn't have been her own face- the image showing looked nothing like her! It was some…creature, some beast from the farthest corners of Oz that had yet to be discovered._

_Its features were contorted and uneven, the skin matched the hellish pigment on Theodora's arms, and everything about it screamed demon and monster. The nose and chin were twisted and hooked to such an extent that they almost looked dangerous, while the eye brows were raised far above the things actual eyes._

_Those eyes- they were her eyes. She didn't have to examine them to know that, she just knew._

_Raising her hand slowly towards the terrifying image, Theodora became petrified; the creature did the same thing. She flicked her wrist and shook her head; the beast mirrored her. That was _her. _The monster was _her.

"_Wake up." She whispered the term at first, but began to scream it not long after._

"_Wake up! Wake up! Wake up! I want this nightmare to be over! Wake up!"_

_She looked back behind her to see the Wizard wrapping his hand around Evanora's waist and pressing his lips against hers. Fire began to burn in her stomach and she could feel hate radiating off of her abnormal skin._

_She gazed upon her distorted features one more time and stood up, shaking her head in anger. _

"_Serves you right." _

_With another scream, she took her hand and slammed it into the glass. The last thing she saw was her sister being held in the Wizard's loving embrace._

Theodora woke up in a cold sweat, her heart beating rapidly in her chest. She gasped for every breath as if she could never get enough air to satisfy her being, and her whole body ached from lack of movement.

She sat up slowly, trying to find a way to rid herself of the images from her dream. But she had no control over her own mind, and each picture was scarred into her subconscious.

She could still see her sister's body pressed up against the Wizard's, and in the back of her head, she could still hear the music box's tune.

What had she become? What _would _she become- the tattered reflection of her perfect sister? The discarded remnant from a love that never existed?

Whatever she was, or became, it all seemed too simple to her- she would always be someone else's broken mirror.


End file.
